


Step by Step

by ViridianJane



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Disney, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, M/M, Tangled!AU, maybe eventual kandreil, thinking about it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 17:42:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9618329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViridianJane/pseuds/ViridianJane
Summary: Junior has only every been in the tower.Andrew thinks he's an idiot.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! so this is a new work, and I'm pretty excited about it. Updates will not be frequent, but I will do my best to not drop of the face of the earth for too long in between updates!
> 
> Enjoy, and thank you for reading!

The Hatfords ruled over their small northern kingdom for generations; they were a proud, loyal and ruthless family. Now, they were not unkind, but they did what had to be done in order to keep themselves and their own safe. Their people cared dearly for the family---

 

            But that’s beyond the point, really, because that’s not what this story is about. Right now, we’re going to focus on the future ruler of the Hatford’s Kingdom: A young Crown Prince Stuart Hatford.

           

            Prince Stuart was kind, smart and quick-witted. He would sit in with his father at council meetings, and he would greet the people with his mother. He was a skilled diplomat, a just judge, and a clever spokesperson. He was favoured by all to become a loyal and just king.

 

            But more than anything, Prince Stuart loved his little sister Mary.

 

            Mary spent her childhood riding Stuart’s shoulders. Her laugh would chase all of his worries from his mind. He spent every moment away from his duties as Crown Prince with her. As long as Mary was happy, Stuart would gladly live his life for the sake of the crown, living for duty, so that she wouldn’t have to. And that never changed. Not when she was a child and loved to climb his lean frame and hang from his shoulders. Not when she bloomed into a fine young lady, frustrated by the presence of an overprotective brother.

 

            Not when she was 18 years old and mentioned meeting a charming diplomat by the name of Nathan Wesninski.

 

            Not when they were married not even a year later, Mary 19 and Nathan 27.

 

            _As long as she was happy._

 

            And then a year later, Mary announces that she was expecting. Stuart, not ever having been interested in having children of his own, was thrilled. Niece or nephew, this was his heir.

 

            Months passed, but as her pregnancy moved along, Mary became weaker and weaker. Physicians came and went, but none had any kind of solution. At 7 months, Mary was bedridden. Stuart took to pacing the floor outside of her chambers. On the sixteenth day since Mary was confined to her chambers, Stuart was approached by Nathan. He was closely followed by his servant, Lola Malcolm, who was holding a small box in her hands.

 

            “Your Majesty.” Nathan gave a small bow of his head.

           

            Stuart stopped pacing and shook his head at his Brother-in-Law, “I’m sorry, Nathan, this must be difficult for you. And please, you can call me Stuart.”

 

            A small smile played at Nathan’s lips. It didn’t reach his eyes, however. “As I’m sure it is as difficult for you...Stuart. She is your beloved little sister, after all.”

 

            Stuart looked at the closed doors of Mary’s chambers, as if maybe he could see through their solid oak surface and know the state in which his sister is in on the other side. “Is there something that you wanted to discuss, Nathan? I’m afraid that I can’t hover for much longer. Duty calls, after all.”

 

            “Well, Your Majesty,” Stuart turned at the return to using his title, “I believe that I have found something that could help Mary. That could heal her, completely.”

 

            Now Stuart was completely turned towards Nathan, storms brewing in his eyes as they focused on Nathan’s face. “And you didn’t think to mention this before, Nathan?”

 

            Nathan gave another bow, but was quick to recover. “I understand your anger at being unaware of this news, but I did not want to give false hope. There was a legend from my homeland telling of a flower -a single flower- that has powers unimaginable to us. It could cure Mary, easily. But there was only ever stories of _one_ flower. So I had to be careful in choosing where to look, and who to send in utmost confidence.”

 

            _Ah, so that’s why we have Miss Lola hovering._ Stuart had noticed the attachment Stuart had for Lola, and that which she had for him, but he never came across anything that could hurt Mary, so he left it alone.

 

            “Are you telling me that you found this flower, Nathan?”

 

            “...Yes, Your Majesty.”

 

            “Where did you find it?”

 

            “In the mountain pass, by the Anthronian Sea.”

 

            “That’s four days ride from here.”

 

            “Yes, and then it took Lola 7 days to find it.”

 

            Stuart watched Nathan’s face for any signs of a lie, but he found none. Unable to believe it without seeing it, he gestured to Lola to come forward. Nathan’s jaw twitched in the dismissal, but he stood aside for Lola to come around and show Stuart the flower.

 

            Inside the box was a flower unlike any Stuart had ever seen. It was small, but stood strong and tall on a single stalk. The blossom was a brilliant red with a gold center, that seemed to be glowing and gave off an unmistakable feeling of warmth. Tried as he could, Stuart was not able to mask his shock and confusion at what was presented to him.

 

            “You say that this can save her? How?”

           

            “From what the legends say, she must eat it. That’s all.”

 

            “That’s all you know? You say it can heal, but what else can it do? Something so powerful to save a dying woman must also be powerful enough to kill her. Is there a catch? A price?”

 

            Nathan’s features settled into a grim smile. “Magic, Your Majesty, always has a price. But for Mary and for our child, I am willing to pay it,”

 

            Stuart couldn’t argue with that. His mouth pressed into a thin line, he nodded. “Do it.”

 

* * *

 

 

            Within a week, Mary was well enough to get out of bed. Physicians said that it was a miracle. She listened to the physicians marvel with a smile, her right hand holding Nathan’s, her left holding Stuart’s.

 

            And a month later, Nathaniel was born. Crown Prince Nathaniel Abram Hatford Wesninski.

 

            When Stuart held him, he noticed that Nathaniel’s auburn hair, unusually thick for a newborn, had a subtle glow.

 

* * *

 

 

            It happened when Nathaniel was six months old.

 

            Stuart was awoken in the middle of the night by screams coming from the eastern halls - Stuart grabbed his robe but didn’t bother trying to find his slippers as he rushed out of his room and down the hall to Mary’s chambers.

 

            A maid was sobbing hysterically outside the doors. Lola was standing at the open doorway, her expression unreadable, seemingly awaiting his arrival.

 

            “What is it? What happened?” But all Lola did was bow her head. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty.”

 

            Stuart felt all his senses numb as he forced himself through the doorway. His worst nightmare stared up at him with hollow, glazed eyes; Mary’s body was a small, broken thing, sprawled on the thick carpet, now soaked black with blood. Her face was turned to the bassinette, hands reaching out as if to take hold of something- _of someone_.

 

            Stuart’s eyes followed the reach of Mary’s cold hands to the bassinette, and realized that the sight of his sister’s body hadn’t actually taken everything from him, not yet, because the floor was swept out from underneath him and his breath caught in his throat when he saw that his nephew, his Nathaniel, _his Abram,_ was gone.

 

            And then Stuart was sitting down. He didn’t remember getting to the stool at the end of the bed, but he was grateful because he didn’t think that his legs would have supported his weight for much longer. He watched what was happening around the room, but it seemed as though he was submerged under water; everything was slower, was out of focus, was too soft to understand completely. From somewhere behind him, he heard someone say something that sounded like _He’s alive! Lord Nathan is alive, Your Majesty, but he needs medical attention -_

 

            “No. Stuart shook his head, “We need to find Nathaniel. We need to find him.”

 

            He searched the room, trying to make eye contact with someone, feeling completely helpless, _but he was the king, he shouldn’t be feeling helpless_ , and found Lola Malcolm. Her eyes were hard as steel as she watched him, still standing in the doorway.

 

            ``Find him. As your King, I order you to find him.``

 

            Lola Malcolm gave a low bow, her hand to her breast. Then she was gone.

 

           

* * *

 

           

            As soon as Lola was out of sight in the servant's passages, she broke into a run. She snuck out the back door in the kitchens, and crept to a hidden clearing behind a dense growth of shrubberies and trees. Once she made sure that no one was around, she reached under her skirts to take the still bloody knife from where it was strapped to her thigh. She used it to cut away the hem of her skirts, completely fed up with their uselessness and unnecessary weight. Satisfied with the pile of scraps she threw on the ground, she began her task.

 

            Humming, she began to pull supplies out from under the bushes. Travelling packs, food, water, her favourite set of knives and her poison kit. Finally, she pulls a bundle of cloth, squirming, from under a thorn bush.

 

            “Still alive in there, Junior? I sure hope so, because otherwise I’d be in a lot of trouble with daddy, hmm?”

 

            Nathaniel was awake, blue eyes wide and staring at Lola. He didn’t make a sound. “Hmm, good boy.”

 

            Throwing the supplies on her back, she held Nathaniel to her chest and stood. “And we’re off, Junior! A new life, full of pain and loneliness and being used. And in a tower, no less! How romantic!” Cackling, Lola made her way through the foliage until she reached the border between the palace grounds and The Great Forest. She paused as if trying to remember which direction she was supposed to go, then shrugged and turned east.

 

_Flower, gleam and glow._

_Let your powers shine,_

_Make the clock reverse; bring back what once was mine._

_Heal what has been hurt,_

_Change the fate’s design._

_Save what has been lost; bring back what once was mine,_

_What once was mine._

 

* * *

 

**18 years later**

 

            Junior couldn’t sleep.

 

            The wind was howling, and the shingles on the worn roof were snapping and breaking off; the shutters were rattling in their frame.

 

            Lola and Nathan had left only 2 days prior. His body was still sore and swollen from the beatings he had received, even though they do let him heal the open wounds so that there is no risk of him bleeding out. _How thoughtful_.

 

            He burrowed deeper into his makeshift nest of hair, trying to gather as much warmth as possible.

 

            Maybe an hour went by when he heard the sound of something climbing the tower walls. Panic shook Junior from his daze, and fear made him get up and rush to the main room of the tower, trying to find someplace to hide. The shackles around his wrists and ankles clanked and got tangled, but Junior ignored it in favour of listening to whatever it was climbing the wall. Based on the speed and the sound of blade digging into stone, he guessed it was a human. _But not Lola or Nathan. They would yell for me to let them in. Plus, they just left 2 days ago. They wouldn’t be back so soon._

 

The shutters rattled some more, but this was from someone sitting on the ledge, trying to break them in. Junior huddled deeper into the shadows, waiting for whoever it was outside to burst in. There was nowhere to run, not since they put the shackles on him.

 

            Finally, the shutters gave in, and something fell through the open window with a grunt. It quickly turned around and shut it, perhaps in an attempt to keep the warmth inside.

 

            With the shutters closed and daylight still hours away, the room was shrouded in darkness once more. Junior could see the shape of the intruder, but couldn’t make out its features. Junior snuck over to the railing and hoisted himself up to the rafters. The chains on his wrists clanged together. The intruder immediately stopped. Junior heard the unmistakable slide of metal on a sheath.

 

            So, whatever it was, it had knives.

 

            Junior lifted himself out of reach as quickly as possible. There was a stranger in his tower, with knives. What other reason would it have to be here than to hurt him? He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and hoped that it only seemed loud to him.

 

            The intruder made to step forward, and then again. It turned slowly, left, and then to the right. Too late, Junior realized his mistake. _My hair. It’s going to walk right into my hair._ Junior wasn’t expecting Lola or Nathan to return, so he had been lazy with keeping his hair kept away and brushed. He had been so exhausted and in pain that he left it hanging and dangling from the rafters. He held his breath as it’s shoulder brushed against his hair.

 

            It jumped and swore, swinging its knife as he turned. Junior’s heart leapt into his throat as the blade swung just barely an inch from his hair.

 

            “What the fuck?” It reached out to touch his hair, and rubbed it between its fingers.

 

            Junior heard rustling and some grunts and then suddenly light filled the lower room of the tower. Junior flinched back just in time, hiding his face in the shadows of the rafters. But the light also allowed Junior to see the intruder’s face, and he studied it as best he could from up high.

 

            It had strong features; its brows were thick and straight, its nose was long and its lips full. Its face was more on the square side, with high cheekbones. Its eyes were hazel and its hair was a pale yellow, kept short with bangs. From what Junior could see of its body, he would guess that it was male (But he could be wrong, Junior hadn’t met any other humans, so what the fuck does he know?).  

 

            Junior observed as the intruder’s eyes followed his hair around the tower. Slowly, it made its way to the top, and settled on Junior’s crouched form. Its eyes narrowed and it lifted the lighter higher in an attempt to see Junior more clearly. He heard it release a breath, more like a huff of irritation, and it spoke to him.

 

            “Who the fuck are you?” It sounded accusatory, as if it were _Junior_ who was the intruder, and not this, this – _person_ (a human, a person, somebody other than Lola or Nathan. If he didn’t know Junior, then it’s most likely that he wasn’t sent by them). Junior felt his own shoulders tense up in irritation, and he called down to the intruder. “You’re the one who broke into _my_ space. You’re the one who started swinging around a knife. _You_ are the threat. _Who. The fuck. Are you?_ ”

 

            It doesn’t respond for a couple of minutes before it sheathed its knives and crossed its arms, appearing to be relaxed, but not fooling Junior for a second. Junior had made that mistake once, but had quickly learnt his lesson.

 

            It raised an unimpressed brow in Junior’s direction, and gestured to the floor. Junior realized that it was waiting for Junior to crawl back down to the main level of the tower. Junior weighed his options carefully, but realized that his only option was truly to just go down and talk to it. If worse came to worse, he could try and shove it backwards and out the tower window.

 

            Junior stepped down from the beam, but in the end decided against going down to the main floor just yet. He only moved to the top of the stairs, so that it could get a clear view of him in the light. The intruder seemed to realize that that was as close as he was going to get, and shrugged in acceptance.

 

            The shuffling of his bare feet on the wood floor was only noticeable from the clanging of the chains binding his feet. The intruder’s eyes narrowed as it focused on that. Junior noticed that the more the intruder stared at him, the more his eyes swept up and down his beaten form, the tenser it got. Junior tried his hardest to keep his squirming to a minimum, but it was getting harder by the minute.

 

            “What are you doing here?” The intruder’s eyes immediately raised to meet his. A rage unlike anything Junior had known was thundering in its eyes, and was silenced just as quickly as it had come, leaving an expression so blank that Junior was left unbalanced. It was as if it took the very ground from beneath his feet along with its rage.

           

“Hiding.”

           

            Junior felt his cheek twitch. “From what? What chases you through the night and forces you to climb a crumbling tower in the middle of a forest?”

 

            “That’s none of your business.”

 

            “It became my business when you shut those shutters behind you. This is _my_ space. You have no business involving me in your troubles.” He could already feel his throat drying and his tongue felt too large for his mouth. He couldn’t remember the last time he spoke this much.

 

            When the intruder said nothing in response, Junior weighed his options carefully. This person had a knife, and clearly knew how to use it. But Junior also knew the layout of the tower from top to bottom; knew where to hide (Mostly. There was no way to hide his hair) and from where he would have the advantage in a fight if it came down to it.

 

            He sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted, and began to pull his hair from the rafters. The intruder started and watched his movements, the only hint of surprise being the sudden tightness around its eyes.

 

            “You can stay the night, if you want. Just don’t come up here. You’re staying down there.”

 

            It frowned. And of all the expressions to have finally appeared on its face, incredulity was not what Junior expected.

 

            “You’re an idiot with a death wish.”

 

            “If I had a death wish you would have found my carcass at the bottom of this tower.” Junior finished gathering up his hair and moved to make his way back to his room. He could almost feel the intruder burning the word _idiot_ onto the back of his head.

 

* * *

 

 

            In the end, Junior didn’t get any sleep. He might have been lulled by the warmth of his bed of hair for a few moments at a time, but it was nothing to curb the ever-growing shadow of exhaustion.

 

            It was the hunger and the thought of the intruder that made him get up. _I guess it’s not an intruder anymore, if I let it sleep in my tower._

 

            He went to inspect his stock of food. Because Lola and Nathan had only been there a few days’ prior, the food was mostly fresh. Having to share it with another person would make it last only half the time it normally would, but Junior wouldn’t let it starve. He picked enough bread and cheese for the both of them, and made his way out of his room.

 

* * *

 

            Andrew didn’t get much sleep. The floor wasn’t very comfortable, and the smell of blood hadn’t settled any of his nerves. Plus, there was the boy. The boy who, for some reason, let Andrew stay, even after he broke into his – what? Home? No matter if the kid lived here, Andrew couldn’t really see it as homely.

 

            He breathed in, looking out the window of the tower,  holding the smoke from his cigarette in his lungs. The burn was almost enough to distract him from the flipping his insides were doing, an expected result of being in a tower that only God knows how high off the ground it is.

 

            _Why am I here?_ He looks back to the satchel lying at his feet. _All for this stupid thing?_ He kicks it aside.

 

_What could Renee want with a useless crown?_

 

            Andrew would never admit to how much effort it actually took to get the crown; to have broken into the gaudy pile of rock they call a palace and taken the most guarded thing in the entire fucking place, he hopes that Renee knows what she’s doing.

 

            Noise from behind him stops his train of thought, and he turns to see the boy at the top of the stairs. Andrew watches as he carefully makes his way down the stairs, moving in a way that won’t tangle his shackles…. Which were also binding his wrists, as Andrew saw, too.

 

            Something other than the smoke was burning in his lungs, suffocating him and turning his sight red. But that might be the idiot’s hair, or the ice in his eyes.

 

            Either way, when he approached Andrew and offered him the most pathetic breakfast Andrew had ever seen, he accepted it without a word.

 

           

           

 

 

 

 

 

           

 

           

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo...yup! hopefully I can keep up with updating, guys. I tried to write this as one huge fic, but that just doesn't work out very well for me. But I have a pretty good idea of where this is going, and how it's going to end.
> 
> To those of you who read The Goose boy, sorry that hasn't been updated recently. I'm trying to get my shit together, and i've started picking up the pieces, and I'm on the right track, so hopefully i'll find an updating routine. Maybe i'll keep chapters short just so that I can update more frequently? Who knows!
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated! You can find me on tumblr at gabriellajane


End file.
